Page 69 of Welcome to Seaman’s Cove: Part Two

“Excuse me,” Sebastian says from somewhere nearby. I’m not sure when he came up on the platform or how long he’s been standing behind me, but his voice soothes some of the sting from President Sherman’s tone. Only a little, though.

He steps around Hunter and takes hold of Branson’s arm. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak with Mr. Prescott for a moment. It’s urgent.”

Before anyone can protest, Sebastian drags Branson forcefully to the back corner of the stage.

“You can’t leave this up to Branson Prescott,” Hunter hisses at President Sherman the second Seb and Branson are out of hearing range. “You’ve known me for years, Andy. I wouldn’t lie about this. I told you the day we found Ocearus that it was Madison’s discovery.”

“And then you disappeared, after I warned you that we wouldn’t wait.” He huffs and crosses his arms. “No one has been able to get a hold of either of you for weeks, right after you supposedly made the biggest discovery of your lives. And now, I find out you’re scent matches.” He shakes his head and tsks. “It doesn’t look good, Hunter.”

Seb and Branson walk back over, stopping any further discussion for the moment. I lock eyes with Branson and silently beg him to be decent for one fucking time in his life. Please tell him the truth. If you ever cared for me, please. For once in your life, don’t be a jackass.

Branson drops his head, looking at his shuffling feet. He almost looks… chastised. “It was Madi’s research that led to the discovery. She deserves the credit.”

I’m so shocked I stand frozen just blinking at him. Rodrick and Carter step up whispering to their packmate, and I’m pretty sure I hear confused cursing.

The university president dips his chin to Branson, even as he eyes Sebastian suspiciously.

“Very well,” he says, stepping forward and turning on the microphone at the front of the stage.

The crowd is growing restless, a few people yelling out questions. He raises his hands to quiet them, and a hush falls over the group as he begins speaking.

Hunter wraps an arm around my waist, and I notice curious looks from fellow students who know he’s the dean of anthropology. He tenses under their gaze, and for a second, I worry he’ll let go, put distance between us, take back all that he said on the island. He doesn’t, though. He pulls me closer to whisper, “I’m not going anywhere. I’d give up anything and everything for you.”

“Still, we could have probably found a better time to reveal our relationship.” There’s a teasing note to my voice, because I don’t really care what everyone else thinks as long as Hunter feels good about the decision we’re making. He’s what matters.

Seb wraps his arm around my waist from the other side, and I look up at him. “What did you say to Branson?”

“I just reminded him that it’s in his best interest to keep you happy.”

“You blackmailed him?” I whisper-shout.

He doesn’t answer in words, but the look he gives me confirms my suspicion.

“With what?”

“Oh there was plenty to choose from.”

“How…?”

Sebastian puts a finger over my lips and leans so close his mouth brushes my ear. “I did a thorough search on Pack Prescott back when you were trying to decide if you were going to stay with them or not. If you hadn’t left them on your own, I would have made sure they could never hurt you again.”

I’m dumbfounded. From anyone else, what he just confessed, and the controlling nature of his suggestion, would be a major red flag, but from my fishy, all I feel is warm and fuzzy. He cared about me even back then, when I was so unsure if my feelings for him were one-sided.

“I was always going to protect you, ocean. Even from afar.”

He kisses my temple, and I nearly swoon.

“…and now,” President Sherman says a little louder than whatever he was saying before, “I’d like to introduce the woman who made all this possible. Miss Madison Grant.”

I almost want to correct him and say Madison Anderson, but we haven’t talked about what name we’ll take as a pack. It seems obvious to me that Hunter’s our pack alpha, but that doesn’t mean we’ll take his name.

The university president holds out the mic to me as the crowd claps, and I step forward to share about the discovery I’ve been dreaming about since I was a little girl.

45

TWO YEARS LATER

“Madison Anderson,” Hunter calls from the podium with a giant smile. No one should look so hot in a cap and gown, even if it’s fancy regalia. Somehow my man pulls it off.